Anne of Nowhere
by stonedangel
Summary: Set before Anne of Green Gables based on the ch. 5 of the book, Anne's History. Upon the death of her parents, Anne is taken in by families who did not love her. Join her as she finds courage in the face of adversity.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

In the spring of 1865 in Nova Scotia, Bertha Willis Shirley, 9 months pregnant with a girl, kissed her husband Walter as they rested on the verandah in the moonlight. They had been married a year before when she was 17 and he, 18, and they still loved each other as much as ever. What could be more romantic than a night out with a lover after an exhausting day of teaching while awaiting the birth of their first child?

"You know," Bertha, young and beautiful despite her growing belly, smiled up at her husband, breaking the silence. "The doctor said she's due tomorrow and we still haven't decided upon a name."

Walter, stroking her hair, replied, "Well, I was kinda thinking of calling her Anne. It's a nice, simple name, and sensible at that."

"Anne Shirley," said Bertha dreamily. "I love it, Walter. It sounds beautiful." She then imagined the red headed little girl in two braids running around the house in the years to come and her joy couldn't be more complete. Her grey-green eyes simply shone with them as she looked at her red headed husband who was pondering the same thing. No one knew of the things to come which brings up most of the wonder in imagining. It was also a good thing because 3 months from now, the worst is yet to come as the young family was to be torn apart.

They snuggled together for a few minutes more under the blue-violet sky, diamond-like stars, and full moon before going back inside. Indeed, what could be more perfect?

At the crack of dawn, Anne was born in the east gable with, as her mother later said, greeting the sunlight that rose on her face. Born also, was a young, blossoming family with proud father Walter standing by her side. "She's beautiful," exclaimed Bertha. After months of preparation, the day has finally arrived.

XxXxXxXxXx

That afternoon, Mrs. Thomas came to visit. She was an, austere middle aged woman with hair tied tightly in a bun and a very good friend of Bertha. She previously had four children of her own which wore her out over the years, for they ran wild and undisciplined all day long. Adding to her burden was her husband's insatiable craving for alcohol and he was often home late at night completely drunk. He was okay when sober, but was inexcusably violent when not. She envied the Shirleys because they seemed to have everything they want, penniless as they were in their teaching jobs.

As Bertha was serving tea in the parlor, Mrs. Thomas asked to see the baby. As a mother of gossip as well as of 4 children, she knew well ahead of time that Anne was due that day.

"Certainly, m'am," replied Bertha. "She's upstairs sleeping but I'll wake her."

As she brought Anne down, Mrs. Thomas looked over the child and said sharply, "What a pity she's the homiliest young thing I've ever seen!"

Bertha, displeased as she was by the snide comment, refrained from saying something rude back. Instead, in her half smile, she replied, "I'm sorry you feel that way."

Mrs. Thomas threw her hands up in exasperation and retorted, "Don't patronize me, Bertha. You know full well that she's not like any other children. Look at how thin and sickly she is. I doubt that thing will live to grow up."

"It isn't up to you to criticize my child, Sarah!" Bertha shouted in her rare display of temper. "She is no more sickly than the rest of us. And even if she doesn't live very long, at least God gave me a gift of the little time I get to be her mother!"

Mrs. Thomas, mortified that a pretty young girl like Bertha would dare take up her elders in that manner, got up to leave. "Well if it isn't the Willis temper. I reckon the child will grow up to be exactly like her mother. Good day to you!" With that, she gathered up her stuff and swept out the door.

The next day, while Walter went shopping, Bertha made her trip to the Bolingbroke school board. "Excuse me, Mr. Carstenson," she inquired to the tall dark haired man.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly. He usually wasn't overly friendly but today, he was in a particularly dire mood after a divorce from his wife, which was extremely rare in those days.

"Well, I just had a child and I wonder if I could maybe I could have an extended leave." Nervously, she glanced at her watch.

Mr. Carstenson exploded. "Where the hell am I supposed to find someone to cover for you? What am I supposed to do with these students, teach them myself?!" Shaking his finger at her, he growled, "All you think about is yourself, woman."

"Fine!" she shouted back. "Consider this my resignation!" After that, she stalked off back home, hardly believing what she had just done. _Well,_ she thought, _at least I'll have more time with Anne. _

Two months later

"Dear Walter,

"I hope your bussiness trip to Prince Edwards Island went pretty well. I, for one, am enjoying my cozy home back in Bolingbroke. Anne is simply blossoming. Each day with her gets even better than the last. I like her best when she's asleep and better still when she's awake. And her hair is red, just like her father's. I feel morose at the prospect of of having to let her go someday. I could imagine taking her shopping for a wedding gown and you escorting her down the aisle. She'd make a lovely bride. There I go again, getting too far ahead of myself. Her childhood should be as much enjoyable as the prime of her life, although in a different way.

"Mrs. Thomas and I still haven't been speaking since she made such a snide comment about our daughter. She's not sickly, but simply thriving. And I can't stand anyone calling her homely because she's not. I passed her in the market with her group of noisy children and she just glared at me, saying, 'I trust that you're managing well alone without that redhead you had the guts to marry.' I looked ahead w/o a word and simply kept walking but I had the burning urge to slap her. That's a shame because we used to be such good friends. Maybe we should reconcile one of these days if I could work things out with her.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you too long. We'll both need a good night sleep if we're to get through another day.

"Love, Bertha."

From that first letter addressed to Walter, a dozen more letters had been exchanged between them before Walter returned. However, a dire tragedy is about to be swept over the young family that would change the life of Anne forever.

One month later

Bertha Shirley was supposed to pay back the money Mrs. Carstenson lended her and was expected to at 12 noon. However, she had not arrived and Mrs. Carstenson, visibly annoyed at the irresponsible girl, made a trip to the Shirley household. Knocking thrice w/o anyone answering, she shouted, "Will it kill you to open the door?!" She then forced the door open and grew concerned at the errie silence. What could possibly go wrong?

"Bertha!" she called with a twinge of anxiety in her voice. "Walter! Hello?" She opened the door to the master bedroom to find both of them dead. She screamed loud enough to wake the dead as the neighbors came running.

"What's wrong?" asked Mrs. Thomas.

"Are you blind?" cried Mrs. Carstenson. "The Shirley couple is dead!" She then broke into tears. "How am I supposed to get my money now?"

"Shut up!" yelled Jane Dellon, 16, who took over for Bertha as a school teacher. "Some of the town's most respected people died of consumption and all you care is the money. Why don't you just step off?"

Mrs. Carstenson suddenly remembered. The Shirley couple hadn't been themselves the past few days. They rarely left their bed and even more rarely ate anything. Everyone noticed something was wrong but refused to let themselves believe that they could be this sick. And now they're gone and there was nothing to be done. Then, she said, "What should we do about the baby?"

A stunned silence fell over everyone. Indeed, though she was quiet throughout the whole ordeal, Anne was the sole surviver of the family in Bolingbroke and people remembered that. She was also, as of the day before, an orphan. And Bertha's dream of taking her shopping for a wedding dress went up in flames. What should be done about Anne?

Mrs. Thomas went around town with her the next day trying to find a family to take her in. However, everyone seemed to be thinking up excuses of not wanting her, especially the cliche, "I have enough of my own arleady," even when they had only one. Dejected and alone while her husband was out getting wasted, she finally decided to take in the child after several hours of deliberating.


	2. Chapter 2

Five years later

"Anne!" called Mrs. Thomas, anger blazing in her eyes. "Get in here now or I'll be inclined to take a strap to your backside."

The said redheaded girl happened to be drinking in the pleasantness of spring despite the barreness of the surroundings and did not hear her. It was the eve of her 5th birthday and for once, she wanted some peace to herself and to get away from the constant berating from Mrs. Thomas.

Since Anne's "adoption" 5 years ago, Mrs. Thomas had 4 more children and at such a tender age, Anne was forced to look after them all but occasionally neglected to when something beautiful caught her mind's eye. The 4 older ones had since moved out to find work because the family hadn't a cent to their name to support them.

Just then, Mrs. Thomas grabbed the little girl by the shoulder. "Mrs. Thomas!" Anne yelped in surprise. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry. Now if there's anything I can do-"

"You should be sorry!" snapped Mrs. Thomas as she dragged the child across the living room into the kitchen. "And you don't even know what you're sorry for. So irresponsible!" As she got out of breath, she chided Anne for not finishing the dishes.

"I'm sorry about that," said Anne quietly. "It's spring fever I guess and I just couldn't help but be lured to the prettiness outside. But I promise to finish everything before succuming to impulses."

"Do you find it physically impossible to stop using big words? You're eating us out of hearth and home and do nothing for your keep! And I warn you that if that ever happens again, you'll be sorry you lived!" was Mrs. Thomas last word before storming out of the kitchen.

While half-heartedly doing the dishes, Anne couldn't help but realize how sorry she already was she lived. A perceptive, intelligent girl, she noticed early on how different her "family" was from others. Namely, how different she was. Everyone else had parents and siblings. Other family seemed far less dysfunctional and more at peace with each other. In the poverty-stricken family and especially the world, she felf out of place, like on the outside looking without control over anything. She had often wondered about her parents and found out recently about how they died, wishing she went with them. "It is just as well," said Mr. Thomas. "Your mother was bad blood."

The other thing is the barreness of this place and how all her clothes were shabby even by the Thomas' standards. Yet, as perceptive and intelligent as she is, she had a knack for a vivid imagination. _I don't believe I could get through each day in one piece without it, _she thought. _Every dull feature of this place I could imagine away. I could even imagine away my skinessness and green eyes, but I simply couldn't imagine away my red hair. _She said as much to Mrs. Thomas who told her icily that God had made her hair red on purpose because she is inexcusably wicked.

"But I tried not to be," was her earnest reply.

"You can't help it because you got it from your mother," snapped Mrs. Thomas as she remembered the incident she encountered with Bertha when she went to visit. She then railed on about how Anne's mother was headstrong and selfish and always had to have the last word. "But what sickened me the most was that she insisted how beautiful you were. I tell you, girl, you were lucky to have lived this long considering how sickly you were."

After that, Anne never breathed another word to Mrs. Thomas about her parents again. Presently, as she was washing dishes, a loud sound of shattering glass and swearing from Mr. Thomas brought her out of her reminensce. Impulsively, before finishing rinsing the dishes, she dashed to the bedroom to see what's going on. As she eavesdropped, she could hear Mrs. Thomas bitching at her husband.

"You stupid jerk! That was the cabinet my parents gave me when I got married to a scum like you. Who the hell do you think you are?" Mr. Thomas only managed to slur a few unintelligible words and seemed unable to stand up straight. As usual, he spent the entire night getting wasted with vodka he stole from the liquor cabinet that was supposed to be saved for company. After that ran out, he spent his savings at a local saloon and still managed to get back before dawn.

As Mr. Thomas started breaking the glass with his bare hands and inevitably cutting himself, Mrs. Thomas yelled, "For heaven's sake, use the restroom!" Watching the woman pull her husband towards the bathroom, Anne tried to dart out of the way, only to be snatched by the shoulder and told to clean up the mess.

"Please Mrs. Thomas," she pleaded. "I really can't endure it. I'll do anything else you want me to do. You could lock me in the closet all day and I won't complain, I promise. But I simply can't touch blood." By then, she was on her knees with her hands clapsed at her chest in her usual dramatic self.

Eyes narrowing into slits, Mrs. Thomas yelled, "You will get more than a day in the closet if you don't do as I tell you!"

After Mrs. Thomas left the room, Anne reluctantly started picking up shards of glass. Soon, her own blood and tears mingles with Mr. Thomas' as well, but she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice. It seemed hopeless that she would ever get away from here and even her usual optimistic self wasn't feeling much optimism. Sometimes, she willed herself to believe she was dreaming and when she wakes up, this nightmare would be over. She would wake up and discover that her folks had merely been separated from her and that they'll be reunited.

Just then, as she looked up at the glass cabinet, a small red-headed girl looked back at her. As she examined closely the details, she found out that, like herself, the girl had green eyes that looked grey in some shades and some freckles. Maybe she wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, but she decided that they would be friends, at least until she encounters a living, breathing one. "Katie Maurice," she whispered. "I know it's not an accident we discovered each other. We're here to sustain one another in our struggles..."

"Anne!!" She looked back and found Mrs. Thomas standing over her. "Stop with this nonsense and finish what you started."

"I'm done, Mrs. Thomas."

"You call this done?! Bring me some cloths and let me attend to it myself. I was a fool to think you were capable of anything!" After Mrs. Thomas received the cloths she demanded, Anne retreated to the living room with a renewed sense of hope. She finally had someone to talk to, even if it's only a reflection. And in a way, that is a real person. Maybe someday, when she's a woman, she would leave this place forever and still carry that reflection with her. And she would never come back.

That evening at supper, which consisted of just lettuce soup, one of the Thomas kid, Carl complained in a hushed voice to Anne that he was starving. He was one of the 4 kids younger that Anne that she had to tend to which can be quite a handful at times. That evening was no exception.

"Hush now," whispered Anne. "That's all we have, and if Mrs. Thomas catches us talking, there's no telling what she'll do." She herself was feeling ravenous but was determined to be strong for the 2 younger ones at the table, even though lettuce soup was all she had for the past few weeks.

"Anne!" admonished Mrs. Thomas. "That's the 3rd strike. You're going to bed without supper tonight and if you pull one more of your antics, you'll go without breakfast, dinner, or supper tomorrow. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," replied Anne dejectedly, as she promptly headed towards the bedroom she shared with all her "siblings."

For the time being, everything was deathly silent, but in no time at all, she could hear the dispute going on downstairs as Mrs. Thomas yelled at her kids for complaining. Again, Mr. Thomas spent all their income on liquor and was about to lose them the roof over their head since they missed 2 months of rent. The lettuce soup they bought bled them almost completely out. As usual, Mr. Thomas was out doing God knows what.

She tried to understand the cruel treatment she sometimes endured at the hands of Mrs. Thomas, that she would've been good to her if she hasn't been in such a desparate financial and family situation, but simply put, there is no justifying anything of the sort. No matter how hard she tried to live up to Mrs. Thomas "standards," she always seemed to fall short. Maybe she wasn't meant to live a decent life, to love and be loved, etc.

Soon, she was asleep on the hard, lumpy mattress. The last sound she heard was the Thomas' kids heading towards the room. All that on the eve of her 5th birthday.


End file.
